What I've Lost
by madeleine68
Summary: Post-"Loss" oneshot. How can Alex cope? A/O Please review!


**Disclaimer: If you've seen them on the show, they're Dick Wolf's, not mine.**

**This is my post-**_**Loss **_**oneshot. Sorry if it seems a bit out of character. I tried.**

_My name is Emily Richards. I'm from Tulsa. I have no family. I'm a university law professor. My name is Emily Richards. I'm from Tulsa. I have no family. I'm a university law professor. My name is Emily Richards. I'm from Tulsa. I have no family. I'm a university law professor._

"Emily?" A voice startles me out of my mantra and I glance up at Agent Hammond.

He's one of the FBI agents who are transporting me to my new home, in Wisconsin. He told me Alex Cabot was dead and now I'm Emily. He's given me pages to memorize about my new identity. _I have no siblings. I'm 32 years old. I lived in Tulsa all my life but after my parents died last year in a car crash, I decided I needed a new start. _He's told me I need to forget about my old life because I might never get it back. I need to focus all my time and energy on not only _acting _like Emily Richards, but actually _being _her, too.

But I know in my heart that this is going to be impossible. I will never truly be able to leave New York and being an ADA behind. I will never truly be able to leave _Olivia _behind.

We were in love. There was nothing else to say for it. She was the only one who really understood me and she felt the same about me. How can I leave that behind?

Every time I close my eyes, images of Olivia flash through my mind. I can still see her, the way her chocolate eyes dance when I tell her she's beautiful, the fiery determination when she's trying to find a child abuser or rapist, the calm, patient compassion she uses when she talks to the victims. It's so easy to talk to her, even for me, the ice queen ADA who finds it so hard to open up to anyone.

I can feel her gentle arm around me the day before I was shot as I confided to her my fears about Rafael Zapata. "You need to go back to your apartment," I told her, trying to hold back my tears. "You can't stay here. They've made threats on me, my mother . . . if they know about our relationship, they'll go after you, too."

I remember how she tenderly stroked my hair and murmured, "I'm not going anywhere, honey. I love you and wherever you go, I go, too."

But she was wrong. Here I am with the FBI agents, driving a million miles away from her and everything I know.

I made them take me to say goodbye to her and Elliot. Agent Hammond said I couldn't, but I complained loudly until he told me to shut up. I just arched and eyebrow and commented, "It's a long ride to Wisconsin." So he grudgingly did as I told him.

There I was, my arm in a sling, terrified of starting over and having to say goodbye but trying to mask my fear. I saw the surprise on both the detectives' faces and then the single tear streaking down Olivia's cheek as she managed a small smile. "Your funeral's tomorrow," she whispered, her voice breaking.

I wanted to run to her and throw my arms around her, abandon my decorum and burst into tears, begging her to come with me because I couldn't leave her behind. But I didn't. Instead, I tried to cram a lifetime's worth of words into one minute, but the right thing to say escaped me.

"How long?" choked out Olivia.

My beautiful, strong, independent Olivia was unravelling from the seams. She was falling apart so I needed to be the calm one and keep myself in check, so as not to appear weak in front of her. So in as measured a tone I could muster, I said, "Until Velez is extradited . . . or otherwise dealt with."

Then I climbed back into the car and we drove off. I turned around and stared out the window as Olivia and Elliot faded from view. I saw her knees start to give way and all I wanted was to jump out of the car and run to her, hold her, rub her back, assure her that everything was going to be okay and this was just a bad dream, that we were going to be together forever no matter what.

But I couldn't. Instead, I watched Elliot grasp her shoulders to steady her and I sighed. He would take care of her. But who would take care of _me_?

I force myself back to the present and give Agent Hammond my signature icy glare. I know this whole predicament isn't his fault but I can't help but direct most of my animosity at him. "Yes?"

He gestures to a respectable looking house on the other side of the street. "We're here."

I silently exit the car and hoist my duffel bag over my shoulder. "Thank you," I say politely. "You can go now."

With a wry smile, he says, "I'll come to check on you tomorrow. Have a good evening, _Emily_."

_Emily. _I start at the use of the name. It sounds so foreign that I wonder if I can ever get used to it.

Too exhausted to even unpack, I find the bedroom and flop down on the bed. Within minutes I'm fast asleep.

_I feel the searing pain in my arm and fall to the ground. I'm paralyzed and for a moment I wonder if I'm dead. But then I hear Olivia's voice. She's kneeling down in front of me, shaking my shoulders, and her lips are moving but I can't hear what she's saying. I try to tell her that I'm sorry, that I love her, but I can't speak. I can't even move,_

I wake up, shaking violently in fear, tears starting to run down my cheeks. _Oh, Olivia, Olivia, Olivia. _All I can see is her, her beautiful chocolate eyes boring into my blue ones, her shy smile when I tell her how gorgeous she is, the way her voice softens when she's talking to a child, the way she can make me feel better with just a gentle touch and a smile.

I angrily brush away my tears with the back of my hand. What's happening to me? Alex Cabot never cried.

But then, I'm not Alex Cabot anymore. I'm Emily Richards.

**I hope you enjoyed this oneshot. Please review if you did!**


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